


it was a sweet heartbeat

by hickeylou (sowearegay)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angel Harry, M/M, i hope this is AU enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sowearegay/pseuds/hickeylou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based loosley off of it's a wonderful life and matilda;</p><p>Louis is a neglected child and Harry's the angel he never prayed for.</p><p>[ <em>Louis looks over at him, eyes narrowed. "You're older this year." </em></p><p>  <em>"Same age as you." Louis' still looking at him like he's waiting for an explanation. "I come at whatever age you'll need me. On your eighteenth birthday as you pack yourself up for uni, I didn't think you'd need a sixteen year old trailing you around." </em></p><p><em>Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I like it when people trail me around. Makes me feel important." Harry rolls his eyes and pokes Louis in the stomach, successfully causing him to squeal and jump.</em>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	it was a sweet heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> **Universe/setting** : movie of choice - It's a wonderful life & Matilda 
> 
> **Story type** : Smut 
> 
> **Wintery element** : Holiday shopping. 
> 
> Note: the shopping is really very quite brief, the AU very drawn out, the smut a bit long and I got a bit carried away. The smut is at the end if that's all you're interested in(: also, i'm not quite sure what this is or why, but yeah.
> 
> Harry says okay a lot. Okay is their thing.

 *****

 

"Harry, son. There's something we need you to do." 

 

 

Harry's eyes flutter open tiredly, shining bright and twinkling when he wakes up. He's a young angel, only seven perhaps when he was brought up along with the other stars. He was a hopeful optimistic, being seven as he truly was, and he loved life as an angel. It made him feel beautiful and important, and though it crushed his mum when God decided he had to leave, Harry was allowed to visit. When he couldn't meet her in her dreams or sit with her on lonely days at the park, he was always watching her from above, shining above her beautifully, and he knew she was always looking up at him, his presence in the sky putting a shine in her eye as if he were with her. 

 

He yawned softly, blinking himself slowly into the reality of the darkness of space and all the stars and angels around him. "What's that, Franklin?" He asked the other angel, the older one. 

 

"Well it's just occurred to us, Joseph and I that, well you haven't got your wings yet now have you, Harry?"

 

Harry shakes his head, waking up in full. "Why no, sir. 'S been three years now." He says softly, hopeful for the consideration of the other Angels to finally allow him the chance to get his wings. 

 

He looks up at the other two, shining bigger than him, but never brighter as the converse quietly among themselves. Joseph, the other, younger and smaller angel, says something that Franklin nods to silently, contemplative and considering. With that the two face Harry. 

 

"Yes, yes. Considering this, Harry, well—"

 

"You've got yourself a shot." Joseph interrupts cooly, excitedly, but not overly. Harry's mouth widens into and excited smile, his whole face upturning into a hopeful grin of sorts. He looks back and forth between the two. Joseph's still smiling and Franklin offers a small nod, smiling softly in congratulations. 

 

Harry nods giddily, smile widening. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much, I won't let you down, I promise."

 

Franklin nods. "I'm sure you won't, child, but before we let you go we must debrief you on the situation of which you will be put in. Now don't get cozy, son, we'll need you in there as soon as possible." 

 

Harry nods. "Yes sir, of course sir. Please, debrief me." 

 

Joseph takes a breath, inhaling deeply, looking at Harry with eyes that told what was to come was no easy matter to speak of or handle. "You see, Harry, a man down on earth need our help—your help. And it's no easy task to fix him up where he needs it." 

 

Harry's head tilts in confusion, eyebrows scrunching just in the slightest. "Why, what's the matter? Is he sick." 

 

Joseph shakes his head but it's Franklin who speaks up, formal and informative as always. "He's discouraged, Harry, and it's only the faith and hopeful optimism of child that could ever hope to save him." 

 

"Sir, I'm still not seeing where I'm needed, sir." 

 

"The boy has been considering something all too serious, child. Why, he's thinking of abandoning his parents, even thinking of throwing away God's greatest gift this evening."

 

Harry gasps, shocked at the audacity of such a thought. He's only seven, remember, but of all the love he received during life on earth, Harry can't imagine why anyone would want to leave it. He shakes his head, unbelieving. "It's not true, sir. It can't be true." It's times like these where Harry's optimism squeaks out of his high pitched, soft, innocent voice that remind Franklin and Joseph and all the other Angels just how young Harry truly is, both spirit and mind. He was faithfully optimistic and optimistically faithful without ever a second thought. He was small and lacked his wings, still, but he was the brightest of all the angels and all the stars in the sky. 

 

"And all on Christmas Eve. His birthday, no less. Can't imagine the horrid effect this would leave on the family and all of his friends. He's a great boy, he is. Can't imagine why he'd ever consider this." Joseph takes a long breath, averting his attention solemnly back to Harry. "That is where we need you, child. If anyone can make him see, make him believe in the beauty of life as beautifully as you do, it's you. Your his only hope. God loves him, but he doesn't want to see him round anytime soon, he's done much too good for his world to leave so soon." 

 

Harry shakes his head. "But sir, I know not even his name." 

 

"Louis is what he's called. Louis Tomlinson, born on the night before Christ, and such a blessing to the world of which he was brought." 

 

***

 

"Say, son. You're about twelve, yeah? Ready to learn a thing or two about the family business, I'll bet." 

 

Louis sighs, setting his bowl in the sink with full intentions of cleaning it and everyone else's dishes up later. 

 

"'Bout fourteen now, dad." He says, resigned. He calls him dad, but the word holds no flavor, no meaning. Is simply the word he was taught to address the man who paid the bills of the by. "Fourteen today, actually." He says under his breath. His father, still sat fat at the table as always, lowers the documents he was reading animatedly as if they were the comic strip and gives Louis an incredulous eye. 

 

"Don't lie to me, boy. You're twelve.  _I_ should know, I am your father after all." 

 

"And what a father indeed." 

 

"What was that?" Louis turns, not realizing how loud his words would sound in the all too quiet house. His eyes narrow as he takes Louis in, skeptical and wondering how it is this child was questioning  _him_. "Honey," He calls out, still giving his son the eye. 

 

"What is it?" 

 

"How old's the boy?" There's a slight pause during which his father's eyebrow cocks at him like some sort of challenge. 

 

"Well I'd say he's about twelve now honey, why?" Louis' shoulders drop, his head hanging in slight as his father smirks at him. 

 

"That settles it, then. You're coming to work with me." 

 

Louis sighs. "But—it's Christmas Eve." My birthday no less, he fails to mention. It would be useless anyway. 

 

"No finer day, then! Up, let's go." 

 

"Honey, we need egg nog!" His father groans, head dropping on the table and arms splayed out in defeat. He mumbles things under his breath that, as an apparent twelve year old, Louis really shouldn't be hearing, but having lived in the house for  _fourteen_  years was much too used to to blush at. 

 

He gets up, grabbing his cap and shoving his documents aside as he grabs for his wallet. "Well, we'll just have to get back to the business thing later—money never waits, you know." He grumbles his way to the door, saying to Louis before shoving it closed, "Make sure to put something ratty on, it's Christmas Eve, after all."

 

Louis sighs. 

 

***

 

"'S not even a family business, you know. And I'd rat him out to the cops too were they not already at our door every day." Louis sighs, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets, wiggling his chin further into the neck of his coat as he approached the building. Talking to himself on his daily, lonely walks to the library was a normal thing for him. It's how he vented. "Sitting on the side of the street, begging for money like we didn't have able arms and legs that could work for it." He pauses, looking up at the double doors that have proven tore of a home to him than his actual home all his life. Louis was always different and his family was the first to shove it in his face. Television and video games, they were never his thing, but they were his family's. 

 

Louis' cheat rises as the cold air he inhales fills up his lungs, icy and sharp. "Sometimes I wonder if I wasn't born into the wrong family." Just as he's about to enter he sees the librarian he's come to know gather her things as she makes her way out, locking up behind her. 

 

"Oh, Louis, baby, I'm terribly sorry but the 'brary's about closed now. Aw, why don't you go home and get yourself warmed up? Here, I've got a little something for you." She whispers, smiling softly at the boy as she pulls out a small, neatly wrapped present from her purse. Louis' confused for a moment before he blushes. He hadn't gotten  _her_  anything. 

 

"A little Christmas gift. Doubles as a birthday one, doesn't it?" Louis' cheeks and nose are red with the biting wind, but he blushes deeper in gratitude. He nods shyly. 

 

"Thank you, miss. I haven't got you a Christmas gift." He admits. She simply shakes her head, pulling her coat tighter around herself. 

 

"That's quite alright, darling. You go on and get yourself warmed up now. I've got tea back home if you want to join me?" Louis politely shakes his head, reasoning that he probably ought to be getting home even though he knows he doesn't have to. She rests on his excuse, kissing his forehead sweetly after he also declined her offer to drive him home. She was young, Louis observed, seemed much younger than she looked behind the large front desk of the library. He'd never seen her out from behind it, come to think of it. No time he could actually take her in as a person anyway. She was quite beautiful.  

 

Louis' kicking snow on his walk to nowhere when she drives off. He's gone the opposite way of his house, but then that's the point. He finds himself a nice tree, one by an empty park, snow all around and making each step he takes sound wet. He's cold and lonely, but it nothing he's not used to, and it's good to feel it outside where he's actually alone than in that house full of people. He sets the present on his lap and tugs the beanie over his forehead, trying to contain all the heat he can. When he's satisfied, he eyes the present almost glumly, sighing; he nearly never got Christmas presents (lest it was a single pair of hand me down bleach stained black socks much too big for him to ever consider wearing) and never really had anyone remember his birthday. It's new territory for Louis, having someone care for him, or feel bad for him anyway. 

 

He's about to unwrap the gift when he stops, tossing his head against the trunk of the tree and just crying. He's fourteen, he shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't feel ignored and unloved. He's never really though of taking his life, but he wishes to be dead nearly every night. He wants to run away, leave this town and this family and all these tears—it'd be a cinematic ending, he's sure of it. Little boy leaves small town and makes it in the city, the big city. Yeah, he doesn't need them, doesn't need this town or the people who are supposed to be his parents. The roads are pretty clear right now, though, maybe he could run up in front of a random car, end it all and give himself a chance to live a better life in another lifetime, it'd be easier, thinking about it. Or maybe he could just sit out here and freeze to death, might be a terrible way to die but it's better than living the same old life that hates him. 

 

He gives up, entirely. Gives it up to fate to decide whether he dies or moves on, but he's not moving from here, not now. 

 

He's wiping his tears when he feels the slight nudge of someone taking a seat next to him, the plop of their bum on the snow. He looks over, confused and red eyed. 

 

There's a boy sitting there, brown curls in a mop over his head, rosy cheeks and a cute little nose. He looked happy, and Louis could think of nothing worse to see right now. 

 

He looks up at him, smiling. He's pale and obviously younger than Louis. 

 

"Oops," He giggles childishly, cutely. "Looks like I got some snow on your present." He reaches his glove covered fingers over to swipe it off, treating Louis as if they're old pals, comfortable with each other. 

 

When he's done and fixed the little bow on the box, he looks back up to Louis, cheeks lifted and making his eyes smile, too. "Hi. I'm Harry."

 

Louis looks at him curiously. "Louis." 

 

Harry giggles, resting his head on Louis' shoulder. "I know." He pauses for a moment, looking up at Louis, smiling so widely it looks as if it must hurt. Louis cringes for him. "Happy birthday, Lou." He says quietly, leaning up and placing a warm, long kiss on his cheek. Louis' stunned, blushing. 

 

"How—how'd you know?" 

 

Harry giggles again, cheeks still rosy. "It's on the card, silly." He pulls the present from Louis' lap, taking the small card from beneath the ribbon. "Says ' _Happy Birthday, Louis_.'" Louis' gaze doesn't move from the child, incredulous. Harry smiles up at him, cherubic features never once faltering; pale and red and beautiful. 

 

"Well aren't ya gonna open it?" He asks, sincerely curious. Louis stares at him. 

 

"Who are you?" 

 

Harry rolls his eyes, nose scrunching. "'M Harry! Already told you that. I'm an angel." He says, smiling brightly. His face falls, sighing. "Haven't got my wings, though, so I wouldn't expect you to believe me." 

 

"What are you doing here, then? Shouldn't you be in heaven?" 

 

"I'm here 'cause of you, silly!" Louis remains confused. Harry looks away sheepishly. "I heard You were thinking of leaving. More ways than one." He says quietly. It shocks Louis, sprouting tears in the back of his eyes. 

 

He clears his throat, trying to keep him composure. "How'd you know that?" He asks, broken. 

 

Harry looks up at him almost sorrowfully, sad that such a beautiful boy would ever consider such a terrible thing. "I'm an angel, remember. I know you want love, and I know you don't have it. But, that's not the only way out, Louis. I promise it gets better." 

 

Louis tries to swallow the lump in his throat, rolling his eyes and scoffing, looking away from Harry as his tears build. "Like you would know anything. You're about ten, you don't know anything." 

 

Harry's face scrunches, looking at Louis roughly. "I'm an  _angel,_ Louis Tomlinson, and I didn't just become one by smiling with chubby cheeks." 

 

Louis looks over at him, the few tears he silently wept leaving a visible lines on his cheeks where the watery heat once was. "What?" He asks quietly. Harry sighs, crossing his arms and trying to encase his warmth. 

 

"I died, Louis. I lived here on earth just like you and I spent most of my time in a hospital room. Do you know how terrible that is? How hope crushing it is to hear the same beep and see the same white, plain walls around you every time? Watch the people beside you leave while you stay?" He looks over at Louis now, tears in his eyes. "It was  _horrid_." He croaks. Louis' heart breaks for him, he wouldn't believe it if anyone else claimed to have died and gone to heaven. Not one person, but Harry, he believes Harry. 

 

Harry sniffles, shaking his head as he wipes at his tears. "But I—I loved life, Louis. I saw the beauty in it. I didn't know my days were numbered, mummy never let them tell me that, but I lived each day as if they were. I was happy, Louis. I was  _so_  happy, and then," he wipes roughly at a tear, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. It doesn't work, and when he looks up at Louis, both their eyes are full of tears. 

 

"I died, Louis. I went to sleep and, when I woke up—my mum was crying, and when I asked her what was wrong it was like she couldn't hear me. I cried, too, but she couldn't hold me anymore, she couldn't hug me. I  _yelled_  at her, Louis, I shouted for her to hold me. She told me she missed me but I told her that I was right there and she couldn't hear me. I was in pain but it was like I couldn't feel anything. I was gone." 

 

Louis' choking back his sobs, looking at the boy whose rosy cheeks have somehow deflated and whose happy gleam in his eye has now been dimmed, and then it's almost as if he was there and, it felt like he was. He could see it all in front of him and it tore him apart, cutting into his heart as he watched the spirit of the boy sitting up trying to get him mum's attention, trying to get her to listen to him. But she was caught on the corpse, hugging it between her crushing arms as if the tears she wept could somehow bring it to life, like they could somehow bring her boy back to her. 

 

Louis was weeping now, clutching his arms around himself, he almost forgot that Harry was actually there. He's standing next to him, watching as the scene of the end of his life unfolds before him. 

 

"God's angel came down to sooth me after that, but I didn't want to leave my mum. He told me that if I went with him I could help other kids like me who were too young to die. I had to go." He pauses, looking up at Louis as the scene fades back to the white, wintery place Louis knows as home. "But you, I would have given anything to live on earth again, just see my mum. To wake up every day and let her know that I was still there so she wouldn't cry anymore. She cried everyday, Lou, and I watched her. I couldn't do anything. I sat in her lap and cried, too, but she didn't know it. And when she could feel my spirit, she only cried harder. And after that I became a star. I couldn't get too close without hurting her, so I learned not to."

 

Harry smiles, eyes brightening and tears finally drying. "And now she helps boys and girls like me who lose their hair and leave their mummies because God needs them. See? Everything has its purpose. I had to die so that my mum could save lives like mine, but I'm okay with That because that means there are less kids like me now. You're important, Louis. You can't leave because God doesn't want you to, he needs you here." 

 

Louis' eyes are red and swollen from his tears. Harry reaches up to wipe them away, and Louis' looking down at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. "Don't be sad," he whispers. "I'm happy, and you should be too." 

 

"I want to be." Louis whimpers. Harry's eyes drop in a sorry gaze, looking at Louis, trying to make him see the light. 

 

"I know you can't see it," he whispers, "But I can. And without you, the librarian becomes depressed and loses her job. She always wanted children, but she couldn't have them. She almost got sad, but then you came into her life and you make her happy without knowing." 

 

Louis' eyes perk up, sniffling a bit. "Really?" 

 

Harry smiles. "Yeah. The library would probably shut down without you." He says, giggling. 

 

Louis' eyes light up with an idea. "Harry, can you show me your mum?"

 

Harry looks up at him, surprised. "You want to meet my mum?"

 

"Only if you don't mind." Louis responds sheepishly. 

 

Harry jumps up, smiling and pulling Louis up with him. "Of course, oh I can't  _wait_  for you to meet my mum!" 

 

*** 

 

They walk for a bit, hand in hand, the ten year old leading Louis gleefully and somehow he comes up with the bus fare to take them up to his mum's house, his old one. 

 

It's an exciting trip and the whole bus ride over is full of stories and giggles (mostly Harry's). Louis learns that he likes to make Harry laugh, that that's what makes him happy, and Harry learns to forget that his time on earth is limited based solely on the happiness and well being of Louis because he likes seeing Louis happy and he likes to believe that he'll be able to witness it first hand for the rest of his life. 

 

"Tell her you knew me." Harry whispers. It was unnecessary, really, because only Louis could see and hear him, but it was cute and Louis took a deep breath and nodded. Yeah. Okay. 

 

He knocked on the faded green door hesitantly, heart beating fast and nerves coursing through his veins. Why he ever wanted to meet Harry's mum he's not sure, but he'd never take it back. He's doing this for Harry, now. 

 

When she opens the door Harry gasps. He's nearly in tears at seeing his mum for the first time in  _years_. She's breathtaking, just as Harry always told her. She looks at Louis curiously, all cuddly and cute in his fat little parka that kept him warm. If his parents did any good for him ever, it was getting him a parka. 

 

"Yes, sweetie?" 

 

"I, um—I, I'm Harry's friend, Louis." 

Shit, he hadn't meant to hit her with it like that. 

 

She shocked for a moment before asking quietly, "Knew him long, did you?" She tuts. "I can't seem to remember a Louis—oh, never mind that. Why don't you come in for a cuppa and we can talk a bit?" 

 

And just like that she's got her arm wrapped motherly around his shoulder, leading him in the house and for the first time in years Louis feels welcomed. 

 

They're sat at the table with warm cups of tea and clothing that keeps them warm beside the fireplace. Louis tells jokes, Anne laughs, and Harry just stares. Louis can see why he misses her so much, Louis would be devastated over losing her, too. After they're half done with their cups and their bellies are warm and happy, Anne turns to Louis with a curious eye. 

 

"So what brought you here today, Louis? It's Christmas Eve of all days, where's your family?" She wasn't trying to pry, she was truly curious. 

 

"My family doesn't care much if I'm alive, really. I'm here because Harry, uh, before he left he asked me to check up on you every now and then." Louis shrugged, eying his mug. "Figured today was the day." 

 

She has a hand over her mouth like she's about to cry and Louis doesn't really know how to handle the situation, never really been subject to anyone else's emotions other than anger and greed. He didn't know much. She rushed over to him with and ' _oh, come here_ ' falling from her lips as she gathered him up in a hug. Louis hugged her back. 

 

When she pulled away she was wiping her tears as she crouched just beneath Louis' height in the chair. 

 

"Oh, that boy," she said, smiling. "Always out thinking about someone else, God I swear he doesn't know how to rest. Even on his final days all he was thinking about was everyone else, I swear. Heaven never gained a better angel." 

 

"He watches over you." Louis blurts, he hadn't meant to say it, but he did. Anne smiles up at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

 

"He just watches over all of us now, doesn't he?" 

 

Louis shakes his head. "No, I mean, he looks over  _you_. He told me." Louis sighs. "He visits me, in dreams, sometimes, and he wants you to know that he loves you so much and he loves what you're doing for other boys and girls like him... Without hair? He says that he misses you so much but what you're doing now is better than what you could have ever done with him if he were alive. He says," Louis trails off, unsure if he should continue. Anne's already bawling again and Louis doesn't know what to say, but he meets Harry's eyes and with a simple nod from him he knows he has to say it. 

 

Louis takes another breath, figuring the story out in his mind. "He says that he misses you and he loves you so much, but he wouldn't choose to live if he was given the chance. He—you've done so much good since he was gone," Louis speaks the words softly as Harry whispers them in his ear. This is no longer about him or his loneliness or anything, this is about filling the holes in other people's lives. "He said that if he had to choose whether to live or die again, he'd choose to die because it meant that you would save more lives than ever with him gone. More.. _mummies_  deserve to have their children home for Christmas. And you give them that. That's better than living himself, he says. Watching you make other people happy."

 

Even if Louis wanted to continue he wouldn't have been able to with the bone crushing hug Harry's mum engulfs him in. The hug moves with her sobs, but Louis hugs back as gently as he can and now Harry's crying, too, hugging onto her side as if he was really there.  

 

"Thank you, Louis. Oh, enough with this crying. I'll never get over that boy's heart." She says, laughing and wiping at her wet, puffy eyes. "So what's this about a family not caring about you?"

 

Louis stumbles for an answer, he's never really been confronted about personal issues or anything ever, really. She giggles and reaches at the pocket of Louis' coat. 

 

"My, it's not your birthday, is it?" Louis looks from his pocket to her, shocked, then back to Harry who's biting his lip coyly. 

 

"Well I'll tell you what, why don't I go get dressed up and we'll head off to the store and I'll get you a nice present, yeah? Oh, the shelves must be near bare now, but I'm sure you'll find something up to your liking, how about it?" 

 

Harry looks at him excitedly and Louis looks back at his mum equally as excited and ten times as shy, nodding with a sheepish smile and red cheeks to compliment his pinked-by-the-cold nose. 

 

On the ride over Louis tells Anne all about his childhood; his parents who can't remember his birthday let alone his age, his father's scam 'family business' of sitting out on the curb and begging. He tells her about the joy he finds in books, how the books in the library felt like his first family (until he met Anne and Harry) and how sometimes he wishes he could live in the pages of them forever. Anne listens intently and rarely interjects, just listens to Louis let it all out for the first time in his life. It's a good feeling and Louis is comfortable. It's good. 

 

When they make it, Louis' led by Anne's hand (Harry led by Louis') into just about the biggest store he's ever seen or been in, and it's all so bright and happy and Christmassy—Louis wonders if this is what Christmas felt like for normal people with normal families and normal parents. He's awestruck with big eyes as he scans the place, white and red and cheery all over. 

 

"Pick out whatever you'd like." She whispers, bending to Louis' height. Louis looks up at her with wide eyes. 

 

"Anything?" He's incredulous. Anne nods. 

 

"Anything." Louis gasps and looks over at Harry who's equally as happy. He turns back and gives Anne a kiss on the cheek, jumping up and down and saying thank you over and over again. Harry leans up and kisses her cheek, too, and for this first time in a long time she feels it. 

 

*** 

 

Louis falls asleep on the car ride home, but not before kindly giving Anne his address. She promised to have more presents wrapped up for him under her tree that he could pick up whenever he liked, and he nodded, yawning a small thank you as he fell asleep in the backseat curled up with Harry. 

 

When he woke up it was dark and the car was parked in his all too familiar drive way. He could hear his dad bickering over the sweet Anne's voice, but he decided to stay inside for a bit while Harry woke up. 

 

"I was just thinking, he's a sweet boy, I'd love to take him in. I have adoption papers, I'd been wanting to adopt for a while now, but until today it never felt right. Please, consider it?" 

 

His father huffed. "Taking a boy from his father on Christmas Eve." 

 

"His birthday," Anne assured, knowing he'd forgotten that bit. 

 

His father's eyes narrow. "Honey, I need a pen." And soon enough Anne was coming in to wake him up and get him to pack his things. 

 

Louis hopped out of the car and Harry followed closely. He helped him pack his stuff into a bag—there was so little of it that it fit into a medium sized bag—and he helped him gather each of his books carefully. 

 

When they made it to Louis' new home and Harry's old one and after Anne tucked him in with a kiss on the forehead, Harry laid next to him, eye to eye in the darkened room. 

 

He sighs. "I've got to go now, Louis." He said softly. They were both tired. 

 

"No you don't, Harry," Louis tried. "You can stay here with your mum and I. You don't have to go." He was close to tears but Harry was shedding them, smiling and choking out a laugh. 

 

"I got my wings now, Lou." He says softly, stretching one out just enough for Louis to see. It was beautiful and white and glowing, and Louis thought Harry was the most beautiful angel he'd ever seen. "I'll always watch over you, and I'll come around again, I promise." 

 

"Promise?" 

 

Harry smiles, grabbing Louis' hand in his smaller ones. "Promise." 

 

Louis' tears are falling freely now, and so are Harry's. They held each other tightly in their arms, and just when Louis was on the brink of sleep, Harry leaned in a pecked a quick kiss to Louis' lips. 

 

"I've got to go now, Louis." 

 

Louis reached out but Harry was gone in a soft flash of white and a strong flap of his new wings, and Louis was in dreamland. 

 

*****

 

"Today's my birthday, Harry." Louis whispers quietly as he carts his trolley around with very belated Christmas gifts. 

 

Every year on his birthday, Harry would show up. Just like clock work. 

 

Harry smirks, eyeing the shiny ornament in his hand. "I know." 

 

Louis looks over at him, eyes narrowed. "You're older this year." 

 

"Same age as you." Louis' still looking at him like he's waiting for an explanation. "I come at whatever age you'll need me. On your eighteenth birthday as you pack yourself up for uni, I didn't think you'd need a sixteen year old trailing you around." 

 

Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I like it when people trail me around. Makes me feel important." Harry rolls his eyes and pokes Louis in the stomach, successfully causing him to squeal and jump. 

 

"Tell me again why you're shopping for gifts last minute." 

 

Louis sighs, pushing his cart in no real direction. "Your mum's hard to shop for." 

 

" _Your_  mum." Harry corrects, tossing the ornament in the cart. Louis looks at him sideways. "What?" He shrugged. "I like it."

 

Louis rolls his eyes and they continue on. Eventually Harry helps him pick out a nice locket for Anne, and they make it home with enough time to wrap gifts before anyone notices. 

 

When dinner comes around and Anne asks Louis if he wants to wait up to twelve to open gifts, Louis kindly declines for the first time since he moved in. 

 

"'M a bit knackered, actually." Anne tuts and pets his hair back in a motherly fashion but wishes him a good night either way. He smiles and kisses her cheek and heads off to his room. He'd open presents in the morning. 

 

Harry's sitting on the edge of his bed when he gets there, and Louis knows something's wrong. He doesn't voice it though, not before Harry does. 

 

"This is my last year here, Louis." 

 

"I want you to be my first." 

 

They cut each other off. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Harry, I want you to be my first. I know, I know it's wrong in the name of God for man to lay with man, but—"

 

"Angels are gender less." Harry says softly, walking up and grabbing Louis' hand in his own. 

 

"What? Yeah, okay. It's just, I don't know much about sex Harry and I don't know anything about sex with a man, gender less as he may be, but I do know that if I can never see you again, I want you to be more than just a memory." Harry's got both of his hands laced with Louis' now, towering over him in his eighteen year old growth spurt height and Louis can't help but wonder if this was what Harry was supposed to look like when he was eighteen, fresh out of school. "I want you to be my first." 

 

Harry nods his head. "Okay." It's a low whisper, but it holds everything Louis' ever needed. "Okay." He whispers again, nose brushing the side of Louis' as his lips tease over his. Louis tenses just a bit as their breaths mingle. He's had kisses before, girlfriends even, but Harry was always there, nagging at the back of his mind. He wondered if Harry was ever looking down and felt hurt just in the slightest bit that Louis was kissing someone else instead of him. 

 

Harry's eyes never leave Louis'. And soon, before Louis even realizes it, Harry's lips are on his own and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever felt. It's a true compliment, Louis realizes now, to tell someone they have the lips of an angel. And Harry really does, he really is an angel. And his lips, his lips are beautiful. 

 

They kiss softly at first, a lingering peck before anything else. And then Harry moves his lips and Louis follows. Their lips move in perfect unison and then Harry's licking Louis' bottom one between his own and, for a boy who died before he was ten, he sure knows how to kiss. Louis gives a soft, surprised moan, just a breathy release of air and it's enough for Harry to continue on. 

 

He pulls his hands free from Louis' and wraps an arm around his waist and another around his shoulders, pulling him close. They're close enough and Harry's tall enough that Louis has to step on his tip toes just to reach Harry's lips, arms reaching for his shoulders and holding onto him with everything he's got. Harry pulls Louis in tighter, both arms around his waist and completely lifting him off of his feet. 

 

Louis holds on tighter, fitting his legs around Harry's waist out of pure instinct and lifting himself higher than Harry's kiss, leaning down to keep their lips in contact. 

 

Harry's hands find the swell of Louis' bum, fitting around it perfectly. He locks the door before carrying him to the bed, laying him down softly. 

 

"Wait," Louis says, pulling away softly. Harry looks down at him expectantly, panting softly and waiting for him to continue. He feels around a bit under his pillow before he finds the bottle, bought only in hopes that this would happen. 

 

"I don't know much," Louis starts, staring at the bottle between them shyly, "But I know you have to use this." 

 

And when Louis' eyes meet Harry's, they're full of understanding, like little stars staring back at him, shining. 

 

"Okay." He says, taking the bottle from Louis' hand and kissing him. "Let's get you undressed."

 

Harry takes Louis' clothes off delicately and slow, declining Louis' attempts to help other than when he sits up or lifts his arms. He places small kisses at each shoulder and down the length of his arms, on the pad of each finger then on the tops of his thighs and his ankles and toes and Louis' never felt more loved. He's still got his briefs on when Harry lays him down again, flicking his hair tenderly from his forehead. He leans down and kisses him again, and Louis tries to shed him of his clothes but Harry shakes his head and pulls away, standing back and removing them himself. 

 

He kisses Louis gently when he's finished, baring all like the light of day. Angels have no shame; we're all born naked. He's soft with his touches and deeper with his kisses, trying to soothe Louis and distract him when his fingers trail to the hem of his briefs, pulling them down slowly. 

 

"Are you okay with this, Louis?" He asks softly, lips brushing, breaths mingling. 

 

Louis nods, looking at Harry with wildly trusting eyes. "I want you to, Harry." 

 

"Then you've got to relax, love." His voice is as soothing as silk, and as soon as the words leave his lips Louis' inevitably relaxed and warm. And that's when Louis really understands that, fuck, this boy's an angel. 

 

Harry begins right away, popping the cap open and slicking his fingers. "You've never done this." It's not a question, but a statement, because Harry's an angel, Harry's  _Louis'_ angel and he knows everything. He's pure. Louis shakes his head anyway. "I don't want you to do any of this again, Louis." He whispers thoughtfully. "And not until you're married. It's ungodly otherwise." He gives Louis' nose a small peck, pulling away with a small smile. 

 

"I expect to see you in heaven."

 

He traces a slick finger over Louis' rim carefully, just getting him wet and letting him feel. "Harry," Louis manages quietly, heart pounding. "I want you to kiss me while you take me, Harry."

 

Harry gets his lips on Louis' immediately. It's a soft kiss, ginger and full of trust. Louis gasps into it so sweetly when Harry works a finger in, the intrusion weird but somehow welcomed. It's a tight fit and Louis' bum feels completely out of sort, squeezing Harry's finger in and pushing it out all at once. Harry works in a second finger gently, and it's a bigger stretch this time, like all of Louis' insides are clamping around the two digits, but somehow it feels more natural than just the one.  Harry's lips remain on Louis' for as long as he works his fingers in him and he deepens the kiss when Louis can't seem to with the scissoring of Harry's fingers.  

 

" _Harry,_ " he gasps. It's both in pleasure and surprise because Harry's stretching him well and it's just about the best feeling he's ever felt. He's never had an orgasm before, it always felt wrong without Harry, but if he had to guess he'd say this was about the closest to one he's ever been. " _Please_ , Harry. I want  _more_." 

 

Harry smiles, pecking over Louis lips softly. His kiss falls to Louis' neck and he pants a bit, trying to gain his own self control. Being an angel since he was seven, Harry's never felt any human impulses or emotions other than sadness and happiness; preteen years were simple. But here, feeling Louis with every touch, letting Louis feel him, the sensation is nearly too much. He's never been aroused before, and the feeling was new. It felt sinful, entirely sinful, but Harry wouldn't stop this moment together for the world. Heaven included. 

 

"So, so greedy." Harry whispers softly, pressing a kiss to his neck. It's observant, and as Louis pulses around around his fingers Harry finally understands how and why humans sinned and went to hell. His words effect Louis in the most erotic way and his lips on his neck serve only to raise goosebumps and intensify Louis' pleasure greater. His chest arches against Harry's kiss, meeting Harry's and cock rubbing wetly against his bare torso. Harry's hand travels down Louis' torso slowly, fingers still pumping nice and slow. He takes Louis' cock in his hand softly before pumping over it slowly, taking in its silky texture.

 

"Yet I can't help but give you what you want." His hands start working on rhytmic unison and Harry squeezes in a thrid finger easily into Louis' eager arse, fitting it into the tight squeeze expertly. He places a soft, supple kiss to Louis' cheek and nose, trailing to his lips. Louis' gasps and writhing with every movement Harry makes, eyes wide and trusting and never moving from Harry's. 

 

"You're so beautiful, Lou." He says gingerly, pumping faster. It's intriguing for Harry, watching all of Louis' human reactions to his simple touches, trying to gauge his own reactions to Louis'. 

 

"Harry, I'm really—I'm not going to last if you don't get in me Now, I'm stretched, I'm ready I promise." He begs, but Harry's eyes are wide and observing on his, innocent and determined. 

 

"I want to pleasure you." He whispers.

 

Louis' eyes are desperate and his fingers are digging into Harry's shoulders with all the desperation that he feels. 

 

"Please, Harry. Before you leave me." He whispers, and thatsenough to convince Harry. He can see the sadness and desperation in his eyes and he'll do anything he can to take it away.

 

"Okay," he breathes on Louis' lips, nodding. "Before I leave."

 

He pulls his fingers from Louis carefully, kissing him down when he arches with a gasp, hands clenched in the sheets at the sensation. 

 

" _Harry_ ," is all he can manage within the sharp gasp of air he takes in, the stretch slowly shrinking, his insides falling back into place, feeling empty and searching for his fill.

 

He kisses Louis wholly, swiping his tongue over Louis' bottom lip as he wipes his fingers on the sheets, still pumping his cock, now dribbling with precum. His own cock is hard and it's a strange, new feeling but Harry isn't paying much attention to it, his only goal being to pleasure Louis. Harry gives himself short pumps, just trying to moist himself up a bit and get himself ready for Louis. He lines himself up swiftly, tip teasing at Louis' rim, causing it to flutter. Louis shifts his hips toward the touch, trying to get him inside and when Harry gets his head in Louis cries out, fingers digging deeper into Harry's shoulders. 

 

He lets out a broken cry as Harry bottoms out slowly, no pauses between. Harry catches Louis' lip between his teeth, pulling back and thrusting hard. Louis cries out louder now, holding onto Harry as his bum tries to accomodate the welcomed and new stretch. Harry was _massive_. Harry's rhythmic about his thrusts, pulling out slowly and slamming back in with passion, soft grunt leaving his innocent, swollen angelic lips, but it's too much all at once and Louis' not sure what it is, but it's too much.

 

" _Harry_ ," he gasps, "Harry, _please_. Please, please, _please_ , Harry." And at this point Louis' not exactly sure what he's begging for, but those are the only two words he can manage and it's enough. Harry's looking at him with mild concern and grand curiosity now, but his thrusts only slow minimally. He pulls out carefully and thrusts back in even slower until he's building back speed as Louis looks up at him helplessly, tears building up. 

 

Harry thrusts in harder and Louis can feel it inside of him, he's hit something great. Louis cries out, eyes shutting and mouth agape as he lays there and takes the pleasure. " _Harry_ ," he cries, and it's all just so, so much but it's so, so good and Louis wants so much of it, he never wants it to end. His mind is fuzzy past any thoughts other than Harry and _please, please_ give me more, _please_ don't stop, _please_ tell me you love me, _please don't leave me_.

 

Harry hits that place with every thrust now, and Louis' looking up at him with tears streaming from the corners of his eyes, holding onto his damp shoulders, lost in the beauty of his sweaty, concentrated angelic face. Harry moves a hand to Louis' cock, and that's when he loses it. Louis cries out, writhing beneath Harry's touch and moving from it like it's all too much. He doesn't want this to end and he doesn't want Harry to leave him and this feeling is just so, so good and it's like nothing he's ever felt before and it's nothing he ever wants to feel again if it isn't with Harry—and then it takes over him entirely. Louis feels it first in his toes, curling up and trying to stop it but let it go all at once. All he he can do is chant Harry's name as he feels the prickling pleasure climbing up his legs and arms and back down, shooting out of his cock. His fingers dig into Harry's shoulders and he distantly wonders if it hurts him, if it'll even leave a mark—if he will even leave a mark on this glorious angel he's come to love. 

 

His thoughts are cut off when he finally lets go, thick strips of his cum lining his chest, spurt after spurt, writhe after writhe. He manages to get his eyes open, his vision blurred from his tears. He makes out Harry's figure leaning down and embracing him warmly with both arms, and he's crying harder now, holding onto Harry blindly and chanting his name in praise and thanks and love.

 

Harry coos sweet, sweet nothings into Louis' ear, trying to calm him. He's still fat and hard in Louis, but he doesn't ever want Harry to pull out, clutching onto Harry and crying into his shoulder. Once he's calmed enough and his tears begin to dry up, Harry pulls away only enough that he can meet Louis' eyes and wipe away the few stray tears left leaking out.

 

"It's okay." He says, "It's okay."

 

"Please don't leave me." Is Louis' only response, choking out small tears. 

 

Harry doesn't acknowledge it. "Let's get you bathed, okay?" He says softly. Louis nods.

 

Harry pulls out and carries Louis to the bath swiftly, locking the door behind him and setting him on the toilet as he drew a warm bath, waiting for the water to heat up. Once satsified and Harry and Louis were settled in nicely, Harry took to washing Louis off softly with a soap damp cloth, scrubbing it over his body softly. Louis was between Harry's legs, his head resting on his shoulder and when Louis moved he could feel Harry's hard on pressing against the small of his back, just brushing the crack of his bum.

 

When Harry began pumping over Louis' cock softly with the cloth, Louis began to get hard again. Harry continued, flocking his wrist lazily as he felt him grow beneath the touch. 

 

"Harry," Louis whispered. He wanted this to last and he wanted Harry to stay. Harry hummed quietly, brightening Louis' insides and making his heart flutter in the way only an angel can, in the way only Harry can. He takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering in bliss and contentment; blind hope.

 

"Will you stay with me?" Louis' voice was small, and it almost broke Harry's heart to hear it. 

 

Harry sighed, yet another human instinct. He nuzzled his face beside Louis', planting a soft kiss on the shell of his ear. "Only for the night." He promised. Louis tensed.

 

"And when I—when I wake up?"

 

"Yeah, baby." Louis' heart flutters and crumbles all at once; it's the first time Harry's ever called him by a pet name and it's one of the last times he'll ever hear him say it. 

 

Louis shifts, but Harry's hand over his sensitive cock cuts him off. "Harry," he gasps, "Please, I want to do it one more time." He turns, sitting on the backs of his legs between Harry's. "Before you leave." 

 

"Louis," He starts, serious as always. Louis interrupts him. 

 

"Harry, please." He begs, voice cracking. 

 

Harry knows he should go, but his human emotions and the way his heart breaks at the helplessness in Louis' voice let's him know that he can't, not yet.

 

"Okay, Lou. Before I leave." Louis' lips are on Harry's with the release of breath on the word leave, and Harry kisses back easily with plump and soft lips, hands fitting around Louis' hips. He pulls him closer until they're hip to hip, fitting only with Louis' legs bent over Harry's open hips. The water's touching their ribs, swaying with the movement of their lips and hips. 

 

Harry's hand is moving steadily over Louis' prick, brushing his own with every pump. When Louis begins thrusting up into it, just the small movement of his hips, the heads of their cocks brush. Harry licks over Louis' lip pleasurably and the kiss deepens as the water around them sways harder. Louis pulls away and Harry's eyes are on his, always on Louis. They're both breathing hard and Louis rests his forehead against Harry's softly, eyes never moving, his hand never stopping. He leans in and kisses him again, eyes fluttering shut. It's a slow and passionate kiss and Louis arms are wrapped around Harry's neck steadily, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of it. Louis pulls away, panting. 

 

"Harry," he breathes, "I'm gonan, we're gonna do this again." He stumbles, breathing hard and trying to find the words. "I'm gonna ride you." 

 

Harry's not sure exactly what Louis' words mean, but he's not curious and he got the gist of the sentence. He nods, hands careful on Louis' hips. Louis takes a deep breath and kisses softly over Harry's lips again, confident this time around. He pulls away and grabs for Harry's dick beneath him, pushing himself up and lining himself with his submerged dick. Harry helps him lift, holding him steady as he tries to sit. The air in the bathroom is cold where his skin is not submerged under the warm, soapy water and it feels like double the fill when Louis gets Harry's tip in himself, water entering with it. 

 

He hisses with the stretch, the water surrounding it making Harry's dick feel ten times thicker and Louis' bum ten times fuller. Harry rubs his thumbs into the dimples of Louis' back as he lowers himself completely, not an inch of Harry left to take in. 

 

"Are you okay, love? Lou?" He corrects, looking up at his scrunched up face with concern. Louis nods, darkened eyes on Harry's as he begins moving his hips in small circles, panting. 

 

"Yeah, fine, Harry." He pants, aiming to gain a reaction from Harry. He moves his hips faster and watches as Harry's face contorts in confusion at the new sensation he'd previously ignored. His face slowly goes from pale and glowing to pale and hot, reddenedd. His cheeks are a slight shade of red and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his lips slack and his jaw tense. His eyes flutter slowly as Louis moves his hips faster and with determination. He looks up at Louis in confusion and full, unbelieving trust. His fingers dig into Louis' hips subconsciously. 

 

" _Lou_ ," he cries, and it almost sounds like he's been betrayed, but the way that he holds onto Louis with all his might as his hips convulse beneath him, bucking up into Louis show that he's all but compliant, that he'd feel betrayed if he _stopped_. 

 

Louis' panting himself, gauging Harry reaction and getting off on it, moving his hips faster. It's beautiful to see Harry's perfectly pink, perfectly plump lips of an angel calling his name in ecstasy, his tongue temporarily having lost the ability to speak any other word beside it. Harry's become more dominant with his hands now looking up at Louis with the human lust he's never experienced, pulling his hips forward and pushing them back, figuring out what he likes. Louis' compliant, rolls his hips in rhythm with the small thrusts Harry's giving, listening to the small grunt he releases. They just had sex in the bedroom on the bed, but this time Louis knows Harry's enjoying it.

 

Louis starts rolling his hips faster, hands on Harry's chest for touch and balance but Harry stops him, holding him still and lifting him just slightly by the hips. Louis' about to pant his name in question when he feels Harry's grip tighten and his hips thrust up and deep, tossing water over the edge of the tub. Louis cries out at the sensation, surprised and aroused by Harry's newfound dominance and lust.

 

" _Harry_ ," he pants, nails digging into the smooth wet skin of Harry's chest. Harry pulls Louis' hips down with every thrust, the sound of the water splashing around them taking place of the drowned out sound of skin slapping skin.

 

Louis manages to move his hips with Harry's thrusts, grabbing Harry's shoulders for leverage. He sinks fully on Harry who's curious under him, waiting to see wgat he's going to do, still thrusting lightly but with a looser grip on his hips. Once Louis' sat fully on Harry, he lifts his hips and slams back down with force, catching Harry off guard and watching as his eyes flutter and widen in shock and pleasure. 

 

"Louis," he says in surprise, "My— _Louis_." He groans. With that Louis pushes up and slams back Down again, swiveling his hips when he's sitting and on th way back up, repeating it again and again. The water picks up around them, splashing up and touching their chins, making a mess on the tile outside the tub. 

 

They're a mess of soap and pants in the middle of a clean tub, Louis bouncing on Harry's cock like it's all he's ever going to do in life and Harry clenching his teeth and gripping Louis' hips at the beautiful and new human sensation that he never wants to let go of. It's one of the last times they'll see each other in a human experience and so far it's become enough for Louis to cling onto for the rest of his life. He rolls his hips hard against Harry's pelvis, determined now to get him off and they're both staring at each other with lust. Harry's hand trails over Louis' cock and up his chest until it's at the dip of his neck, wetting the dry skin as he feels over it. He pinches Louis' hard bud out of curiosity and tossing his head back in a moan when Louis clenches around him.

 

" _Harry_ ," he pants, "I'm not gonna last, Harry." Harry nods and pinches Louis' nipple once again, pumping his cock in rhythym with his bounce. 

 

"Okay." He says, rubbing his thumb deep into the pinking bud as he pumps. "Kiss me." He adds. 

 

Louis presses his lips against Harry's immediately, love and passion bursting at the seam their lips make. It's rough and their teeth are pressing hard against the inside of their mouths before their tongues peek out and it becomes a clash of teeth and tongue. Louis keeps bouncing and Harry keeps pumping, a hand secure on Louis' hip as they kiss. 

 

He swipes his thumb over Louis' leaking head and Louis pulls away with a gasp before Harry's pulling him back by his bottom lip, teeth sinking in and desperate. Louis clenches around Harry and Harry moans into the kiss, sucking Louis' tongue. 

 

Harry gives two, three more pumps and then Louis' cumming with a cry, forehead falling to Harry's shoulder as he cums again in thick stripes blending into the soap and water around them. Harry works him through it, cooing into his ear and trying to gauge the feeling at the pit of his stomach. 

 

" _Harry_ ," he whimpers, Harry's hand still working dutifully over him. He clenches around Harty in a pathetic attempt to get him off, lips sucking tiredly at Harry's neck. That's all it takes before Harry's toes are curling and the muscles in his feet and stomach tense up. 

 

" _Louis_ ," he cries as if it explains the feeling that's taking over, like it's the only coherent thought he can manage. His head hits the shower wall painfully loud and his eyes are shut as he cums, pumping over Louis' limp and sensitive cock faster, causing Louis to clunch harder around him and cry out, biting into Harry's shoulder.

 

Tget we're both panting and tired, limp in the tub and looking for sleep, falling in and out of it unwillingly. "Harry," Louis sniffles into Harry's neck, tears building up. "Don't leave me until I'm asleep. _Please_." he sobs brokenly. Harry nods, wrapping his arms tightly around Louis and petting a wet hand over the back of his hair. 

 

"I won't." He promises. 

 

Harry gets them up and dried with a fluffy towel that feels like heaven itself. Louis stands passively as Harry runs the towel over his wet body and hair, wiping swiftly at his leaking hole, subduing it for now. He watches as Harry works, taking care of them both, and tries not to cry. When they're both dried of and warm Harry stands in front of Louis, too. He wipes at the small tear that managed to leak and meets Louis' tear dampened eyes solemnly. He wraps his arms around him and Louis sobs quietly into his shoulder, arms folded feebly against their chests. It's a silent embrace, a silent comfort, but it's all that Louis needs. 

 

"Come on," Harry whispers, planting a kiss into Louis' hair. "Let's get you to bed."

 

They're laying warmly beneath the cover in silence, Louis' back pressed against Harry's, arms wrapped in each other's. It's quiet and sad, but it's not terrible. 

 

"Harry," Louis whispers, "Tell me a story. Put me to sleep." 

 

Harry pinches Louis' hip affectionately, making a small comment about how there's no way his stories are ever boring, and Louis gives a soft laugh but it's broken and forced. Harry begins; 

 

"There was a boy, once, who wanted love and couldn't find it. He didn't believe in God; he couldn't understand how there could be one in the loveless life he was living. So he considered doing something terrible. He didn't realize that, in simply living and breathing, he had so many people who loved him: God himself, the Angels, the librarian." He says with a soft smile. Louis smiles, too. 

 

"There was one angel in particular who was sent down to show him just how much he was loved and just how dark the world would be without him to brighten it; he was the sun of so many people's lives. The brightest star of them all. The angel was nothing to compare, but he tried. 

 

"They went on this long, _brutal_ adventure involving snow and trains and son-less mothers and sex and _sin_ and, by the end of it everyone's life was inevitably brightened. The mother gained a son, the boy gained a loving mother, and the boy learned to live in happiness. 

 

"The angel visited him every year on his birthday, the first day they met. The first year he returned, he ran into him, quite literally, as the boy was jumping around alone in his room, playing with his stuffed animals like no fifteen year old, 'not-a-child-anymore' kid should have been. The angel fell on top of the boy with an ' _oops_ ' and the boy replied with a sly, bitten smile and a small ' _hi_ ' in reply that reminded him so inevitably of their first encounter that he gathered the angel in his arms and kissed him swiftly and happily. 

 

"It was innocent. Every year after that the angel visited the boy on his birthday with an oops and a hi and a kiss on the lips until the boy grew into a man and he could no longer visit. They made their last moments together last." 

 

Louis sighs, tears in his eyes and fighting back the urge to shut his eyes and sleep. His eyes shut carefully as his sniffles, cuddling closer into Harry's warmth. 

 

"Tell me you love me, Harry. I just need to hear it once." It's a broken and helpless request, but Louis needs to hear it. Harry's heart breaks for him, but he only feels a hint of it—Louis' on the verge of sleep. 

 

"I do love you, Lou."

 

Louis cries, letting out a broken sob. "Please," he begs, "Call me your baby."

 

 

"You're my baby, Louis, and I'm your angel." 

 

"I love you, Harry." 

 

"I love you too, Louis." He promises. Louis drifts unwilling into sleep and Harry presses a soft kiss into his hair as his wings become tangible, lighting the room with blinding white. 

 

*****

 

The day would come where Louis would have lived his life to the full enjoyment of God's joy and light only to be lifted up and met with his forbidden love forever more in the dark sky of the starry night.

 

For now, Louis was left with the simple contentment of looking up at the sky and pointing out the star that was Harry, twinkling back at him like a wink, wife at his shoulder and children at his feet pointing back and shouting in excitement at the bright, bright star that only Louis knew as Harry. 

 

Louis told his children the stories, even his wife, of how the star, that one star light up the darkest days of his life in the darkest of times and led him to believe in the happiness and light of the life God gave them all. One day, he told them, he would be up their beside that single star and they'd light the night together like old pals; never forgetting the times they went through together. One day, he promised, he would light up their lives like Harry so kindly did his, and he would always be their.

 

"One day," he said to his much-too-old-to-be-wishing-on-stars-and-calling-on-angels-comma-dad children who were, respectively, ten and fourteen, "You'll believe in the magic of stars and angels as deeply as I do. And one day you might even meet one who will make you believe in fate. One day you'll meet someone who will make you believe in the good in the world, and that's a day you'll never forget."

**Author's Note:**

> requests [here](http://grapelout.tumblr.com/QA)


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